Short Story

I don’t really like how I look. Mom says we were all made to be exactly the same, but my friends all seem different. They have all these fancy squiggles and lines on them, but I can’t find any on me. I wish I was more squarely built- I’m way too rectangular. Besides, no one else on this land seems to understand me. When Mom left me at the factory, she told me she’ll be back. But who knows where she went- I never got to see her again.

Every Wednesday, there are these long things- fingers they call them- that bang furiously on us. We don’t know what or why they are doing this- but it hurts terribly. We all scream but the fingers don’t hear us. Sometimes we get lucky, and don’t get jostled with for a week. Yet most of the time, we are being attacked every second, and sometimes the pain is numbing, but mostly it is sharp.

I know something I can do- I can escape.  I saw number 5 try the other day, but she was fitted right back in. Maybe I should take a risk, I can do this.

So I tried with all my strength. I was certain “M” almost woke up to catch me red handed- but it turned out to only be a slight stir in his sleep.

The superglue they used was way too strong. There’s no way I could escape.

No way.

Maybe I should just accept my fate-

As a space bar.


Nicolette Kum (3W)


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